


Till the End of the Line

by palegalaxy



Category: Marvel
Genre: I Made Myself Cry, M/M, Not Happy, SO SORRY, bittersweet in everyway, just general pain, just very sad and angsty, made from a headcanon my friend sent me, really nothing happy about it, second chapter involves suicide, self harm is involved, self hate, very sad, yeah im sorry yall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 09:39:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7355719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palegalaxy/pseuds/palegalaxy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky gets tired of waking up every morning and seeing his metal arm as a daily reminder of those he hurt as the Winter Soldier, so he goes to desperate measures to fix it.</p><p>- I'm awful at summaries but this is the best I could manage. -</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> it was created from a headcanon i received from my friend who was trying to make me cry so it's very sad and not at all happy. i might continue it because she gave me a part two to the first headcanon.

“I’m worthless,” Bucky mumbled quietly as he stared spitefully at the body in the mirror in front of him.   
He traced down his left arm with his right hand, his body shivering as his fingertips touched the cold metal.  
This arm, that had become a beacon of terror to so many. To those he killed and those he’d done worse to. It was apart of him. No matter how you saw it, no matter what he did it change it, he would always be associated with the crimes of The Winter Soldier.  
With his fingers grazing up the metal, once they reached to the top he gripped onto the bicep and with all the strength left in him, pulled down.  
The pain was an immediate reaction, his brain telling him to stop. But he just held on tighter, begging for it to come off.  
He could feel the metal ripping from his shoulder, and as much as he had tried to convince himself that it wasn’t apart of him, the pain that he was feeling was telling him otherwise.  
His body fell to the floor as he continued to pull at it. He stopped only for a minute to look at the damage he had done to himself.  
Wire was being pulled and fried as the metal arm hung on by them, half off, half on at the top of his shoulder.  
He could still see his reflection from the ground. His hair was wild and his eyes were tearing up. Before he could take in the image staring back at him, he kicked the mirror backwards with his foot, sending pieces of glass everywhere.  
“I’m Bucky,” he yelled, tugging at the arm but with much less force now. It was only half off but it didn’t want to budge past it, and the pain felt unbearable.  
“I’m Bucky…” he sobbed, still desperately with everything in him pulling at the hanging metal.  
He didn’t want to be The Winter Soldier anymore, even if it meant only having one arm. He couldn’t keep looking in the mirror and seeing him.  
Bucky had become so distracted by his own self, that the fact that Steve was to come home at any minute now had drifted completely from his head. He hadn’t been in the right state to think of what he was going to do if he had succeed and Steve had come home to see it, he had only hoped he would succeed. But even then, he failed at that.  
Steve had noticed the stillness of the house when he entered with his arms filled with grocery bags. Bucky hadn’t been himself lately, but he was always wandering around downstairs, and he never failed to greet him at the door.  
“Buck?” he shouted from the bottom of the stairs after putting the bags down at the counter. “Hey, Bucky! You alright?”  
When he received no answer, he rushed up the stairs. He heard Bucky’s screams before he could even reach the top.  
The state Steve found Bucky in was a horrific one. There was a small pool of blood underneath Bucky’s metal arm -- which still was connected to him by a great deal of wire. He was on the ground, his other hand still holding on, attempting with the very little strength left in him to take off the arm completely.  
“Bucky… Oh my god…” he gasped, rushing to his aid.  
“No!” Bucky moaned, trying to pull away from him but Steve already had him in his arms.  
His first course of action was to pry Bucky’s hand from his arm to try to keep him from causing anymore damage to himself. He covered Bucky’s hand with his own and shoved his fingers underneath his, pulling them from the grip he had. With great effort, he was able to get his hand off of his hanging arm. But it didn’t really matter, the damage was done.  
The next thing he had to do, was get help on the way. With his hand still holding onto Bucky’s bleeding shoulder, he reached into his pocket with his other hand, pulling out his cell phone, he dialled 911.  
He gave them the address and tried to the best of his ability to describe the setting that was taking place.  
“Is his arm stuck on anything?”  
“No. He’s pulling off his arm. I came upstairs and- and he was trying to pull off his arm. T-there’s a lot of blood. Please, I need you to hurry,” Steve begged them.  
“Can you stay on the line for us?”  
“No, I- I have to go.”  
Before they could answer he hung up and threw the phone to the ground, using his free hand to try to stop the bleeding.  
“James, why would you do this? Why the hell would you do this?”  
He didn’t answer, he couldn’t tell whether the pain had gotten to him or he just didn’t have an answer. Only groans came out of his lips as he tried desperately to fight Steve. He didn’t stop until the paramedics arrived, and they had to knock him out so they could get him onto the ambulance.

Bucky woke up in the hospital. His body weak and swore. His arm tied down, which he assumed was incase he woke up and continued to try to pull at the metal arm that was still holding onto his shoulder.  
He turned his head, seeing the wrapped up arm that they had managed to fix. The arm he had tried to take off, the arm he had failed to take off.  
He had failed. He had been too weak to pull it off. Even as the great Winter Soldier, he couldn’t even manage to take off his own arm. How pathetic.  
“Buck?” He looked up to see Steve standing next to him, his eyes were red and he could still see some blood on his shirt from where he had gotten it when he tried to save Bucky.  
“What are they going to do to me?”  
“What?” Steve asked, caught off guard by such an immediate question.  
“I was found in my own room pulling at my arm furiously, like a madman. Don’t tell me that this news isn’t everywhere already.”  
“It isn’t,” he assured him “Tony was able to keep this all quiet. No one knows what happened besides the doctors that helped you, and Tony and I.”  
“What happens next then? Are they going to fry my brains again? It worked with the Winter Soldier, maybe we should try it for Bucky too.”  
“Don’t say that.”  
Bucky laughed, “whatever you say, Cap.”  
“Bucky stop.”  
But it was too late, Bucky lied back in the hospital bed and closed his eyes, shutting off Steve completely.


	2. the end

Bucky found the house empty, Saturday night. It was gloomy and overall he was tired. Tired of watching Steve try his hardest and keeping Bucky okay when he knew that there was no use. Bucky had been trying to tell him that for so long now.  
He was tired. And he was ready to be at rest.  
Everything was ready. He had his note ready and it set at his bed side along with the gun that was shoved into the casing of the mattress. He had been able to keep it hidden from Steve and anyone else that had come over for a long time. He had the gun sitting in his lap as he sat towards the edge of the bed.  
The one thing he had yet to account for was when Steve was going to be home. After everything that happened he tried not to go out at all, but especially not for a long time.  
Bucky did his best not to think about Steve would handle everything, and part of him was too blinded by his own pain to care about how it would end up for him.  
So holding the pistol tightly in his hand he looked down at his feet, tears streaming down his cheeks as he fought to hold it together. He looked down at his two hands, one his and one of the winter soldier. The thing that he would have anything to not be associated with. To have disappear. It was still apart of him, and deep down he knew that even if he had still lost his arm, it still always would be.  
He dropped his head in his hands as he rubbed his eyes clear with the palms of his hands. It was now or never.  
He pressed the cold metal up to his forehead, tears running down his cheeks as he did his best to keep his hands steady.  
Bucky took a deep breath, and the sound of the gun going off could be heard throughout the house.

Steve entered 3 minutes too late, and when he opened the door to silent house he knew that something wasn’t right. It was like his blood ran cold and his heart was stuck in his throat. Something was wrong, something was very wrong.  
He called out for Bucky but received no answer.  
Because of the state he was in he almost didn’t notice the note that sat on the table next to the stairs. A handwritten note in pen from Bucky. And on top of it sat his wedding ring.  
He reached over and pulled it up to examine it and he knew exactly what it was before his mind even processed the words.  
On the paper were 12 simple words.  
I’m still with you but this is the end of the line.  
His body froze up, he could feel his breathing getting rough as he yelled for his best friend and love of his life, begging for an answer as he ran up the stairs until he reached the closed door.   
He didn’t hesitate to barge it open.  
By the time he made it up there Bucky could be found in a pool of his own blood, his body twitching as it fought to stay alive.  
Everything after that happened in a blur. He ran to Bucky’s side to find a slow pulse. The part of his body that wasn’t normal was fighting against everything that should be possible to stay alive, and it wasn’t winning the fight.  
“I’m gonna get you some help, buddy. Okay? Just stay with me,” he sobbed as he used a piece in his ear to immediately contact Tony and the doctors he had that there was an emergency. After the first scare they had gotten him the ear piece in case something like this had happened. He had never hoped to have to use it.  
Bucky’s body was able to keep fighting until the helicopter came to take him away, and even then it was barely going. Leaving Steve alone in the bloody room once again.  
The next few weeks were ruthless. The doctors had managed to keep him alive but there was no promises that he would wake up.  
Bucky had been lucky to have not directly hit his brain, and that could only be thanked by his shaking hands that he had been unable to keep steady. It was a different feeling, taking your own life over taking someone else’s. It was much harder to do.  
Through the weeks of Bucky lying there, only a bit responsive to the nurses calls, Steve had sat through it all. Nick nor Tony ever called him in anymore. Steve hadn’t been there when Bucky needed him twice now. He wasn’t just about to fail at that again.  
By the fifth week, they had been able to get him to open his eyes and turn to people’s calls, but he had yet to say anything. Until today.  
Steve sat at Bucky’s bed side as he always did, his fingers intertwined with Buck’s when he felt him stir in the hospital bed. His eyes fluttered open and he shifted around until he was sitting up.  
Steve let go of his hand to help him up and Bucky looked around the bright room. His eyes taking in everything for the first time in a while.  
“Bucky… Are you… are you alright?” he asked very carefully, not wanting to do anything that could possibly upset him.  
“I- I’m alright. I think.  
“Who are you? Might I ask. And how- or why, am I here?” Bucky asked softly.  
Steve took a deep breath before hiding his hands behind his back, slipping the two rings off of his finger before replying with a smile “I’m Steve Rogers, Your best friend.”


End file.
